


To Crumble

by ironmessTM (InkOfEmrys)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: A TRIUMPHANT RETURN TO AO3, Angst, Gen, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Tried, Irondad, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Sleepy Peter Fluff, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, The one day I actually did a prompt hahaha, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Written during whumptober, it's been too long i've forgotten how to tag, of course it's angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:14:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21794371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkOfEmrys/pseuds/ironmessTM
Summary: So.I've got a few ongoing writing projects.And this one seeded itself up from...by far one of the smaller catalysts.Anyway.Here's to an attempt at a legitimate work summary.There was a fight. Things didn't go so well. And Tony took Peter into it with him.There're moments of fluff. Angst. Alternate endings....we tried, everybody. (notice this isn't marked with major character death. That's because there is none.)I wrote this in basically two sittings during whumptober, on the day the prompt was "adrenaline". It was short. It was...lowkey basically garbage, and for the most part that was about it. But then recently I found it and gave it a (quick) dust-off, and...well, I thought it'd been long enough since I'd tortured the public.That wasn't by far the most incredible summary, but...I hope it works, and as always, I hope you enjoy. :)
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Kudos: 8





	1. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy, hey there everybody! It has been nearly three months since I have posted anything up here. You miss me? Yes? No? Too bad hahaha cuz I'm BACK.
> 
> Anyway
> 
> Have I had plans? Yes.
> 
> Have I been trying to work on said plans? As much as possible.
> 
> Was this one of those plans? Haha nope you guys know the muse's mysterious ways
> 
> Thank you all so much, and I hope you enjoy! I can't tell you how much I love hearing what you think!

***

“Kid?” Tony called, helmet receding into his shoulders as he shut off the worn repulsors and hurtled down towards the ground. He landed, gasping, turning his head from side to side. “Kid, are you there?” he asked, but even as the ringing in his ears subsided, he found that he’d received no answer. His heart already beginning to hammer, he started to sift through the rubble, grabbing slabs of cement and brick and tossing them aside like they were nothing. The weight of the debris and the strain he should’ve felt registered as little more than pinpricks in the back of his racing mind; nothing else mattering besides the fact that these objects – big or small – were in his way. Between him…and the thing he’d sworn himself to protect.

No matter what.

 _“Kid?”_ he shouted, his voice breaking and leaving him unable to do anything to stop it. “Kid, I… _Peter?”_ Tremors ran mercilessly beneath every syllable of the words as he yelled, his cry of worry and of fear reverberating throughout every nerve in his being now set on fire. Peter. Peter. _Peter,_ he repeated to himself over and over again – holding the name achingly close like a prayer, and a grief-stricken call of desperation.

His shoulders finally gave out with a heave and he fell to his knees on the ashy ground, the ache of ragged breaths riddled with exhaustion even as his reeling heart continued to race. The joints of his suit dug into his skin and moisture pricked at the corners of his eyes, leaving him to stare out into the dull leftovers of their fight. Leaving him unable to understand, what it was that had gone so excruciatingly wrong.

They’d been fighting some…some group. A gang, who had collected the last of the weaponry the Vulture had put out onto the market – whatever there had been, anyway, before his capture and the surrender of his crew. Until now, their only charges were for things like petty theft, and minor arson. But it seemed that in the wake of their sadistic accomplishment, they’d felt unstoppable – tearing though the city, and taking whatever they felt like without regard for anything in their path. So Tony had gone down to deal with it, and he’d let the kid come along – a decision whose weight rested on his shoulders like that of the world he’d failed to protect. 

His.

Peter shouldn’t have been around when the alert arrived, but today – as he’d been doing a bit more in recent weeks – he was visiting the tower, and working in the lab with Tony. It’d been a normal day – only made better, by the spider-kid’s appearance – and they’d been safe. They’d been fine. In fact, everything, was fine – until F.R.I.D.A.Y. had given him the warning, and he hadn’t said no when Peter asked to come too. How bad could it be, he’d thought. How bad could it be, for a mission with weaponry that they’d faced before, and beaten before. He’d been thinking about bonding – a good time, and a memory he could secretly savor. And he’d nearly had it.

They’d suited up and headed into battle, holding their own with a feeling of excitement lingering behind the goodness they’d taken for reality. They were this close to winning – the authorities, _this, close,_ to being able to take them away, and let everyone get on with their lives. Tony could already picture them back in tower – Star Wars or some other Disney movie booting up in the background, and Peter curled up on top of the sofa with a mug of hot chocolate and a warm smile on his face that would only continue to grow. At least, he’d thought he could picture it.

Until someone they’d thought was restrained detonated an explosive, and brought down half a city block as a diversion to escape.

How it’d escaped their scans, nothing could tell him. But Tony felt the swelling flames before he saw them, and he’d tried to duck out of the way – a now-damaged repulsor system making it so he was moving too slow, and leaving him to be consumed. Or, at least…he would’ve been.

If Peter hadn’t thrown himself in the way.

He’d sensed it. He’d felt it coming with a sharp rush of stimulus, and without a second thought moved to hurl his mentor out of the blast’s path. He’d let the hurtling, building-size shards of cement hit him head-on instead, and…Tony…he just didn’t understand. Didn’t understand, how the universe could ever let something like this happen. How somewhere, the decision could’ve ever, _ever,_ been made that that he was worth saving, worth saving at the cost of such _light,/em > at the cost of such undeniable, unburdened, and unquestionable brilliance._

He didn’t under _stand,_ and his heart screamed in every conceivable direction, his head and nerves surging with a drive of pure protective fervor. Because…that was his kid. That was his kid. 

That. was. his. _Kid._

He threw himself to his feet and returned to tearing through the wreckage, giving himself no moment’s pause and ignoring the screams of his muscles pulling taut. He used what was left of the repulsors in his hands to push his strength even further, flying from pile to pile and trying with a feverish, almost unrelenting fear to figure out where Peter would’ve landed. Because Peter…he had to be okay. 

He just had to be. 

_”Peter?”_ he called again, his throat almost charred from the sheer rush of force in his systems. _“Peter?”_ But he didn’t hear anything, heard nothing expect the pounding of his heart within his ears. “Friday, are- are you there?” it rapidly occurred to him to try, unsure as he was that the A.I. would still be functioning. 

“Yes, boss?” it responded, the system being booted up on command and evidently – albeit little to his relief – working well enough to process his request. 

“Friday, scan- scan for his suit, for Peter’s suit. Contact Karen, give me anything you can find. Now, do it now.” He heard the subtle hum of the A.I.’s processors, and his racing nerves only brought him closer to breaking down. “Now, Friday!” he shouted – unable to breath, unable to move, barely able to _think_ until he’d fixed things. Until he’d fixed his mistake because this was his mistake and Peter shouldn’t have to pay for his mistakes not Peter never Peter _why Peter-_

“My sensors seemed to have been rendered non-functioning by the wreckage.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. finally responded, leaving something in Tony to snap. Shatter. 

To _crumble._

“I’m afraid I can’t pinpoint his location.” 

“Damnit!” Tony yelled, his voice shaking as anger became overburdened by emotion, and he slammed his fist into the remnants of a wall – watching the broken pieces as they fell, and landed soundlessly at his feet. “Damn…” he repeated quietly, his eyes squeezing shut and his hand slowly slipping down to his side. “Peter, I…I’m so sorry.” The words hung heavily in the air in front of him, pulling his breath from his chest and leaving him with almost nothing. Nothing, except the guilt, and the loss, and the unbearable weight of having failed the person who depended on you the most. 

_I failed you._ he thought, unable to form the words out loud. _I failed you._ He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop anything when tear rolled down the side of his cheek – trailing through the leftovers of turmoil on his face and falling to the ground with a silent plink against the rock. “You didn’t deserve this.” he murmured, knowing that he was kneeling at the gravestone of his hope. 

“You didn’t deserve this.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I'm sorry.
> 
> I'm going to try to make it up to you guys hahaha, whether you want it or not.  
> When I dug this back up, I know it goes fast, I stared at the ending, (all you writers know this; we can get cliffhangered by our past selves.) and as we all know, this could go two ways. Peter's there, or...he's not.
> 
> So here's what I'm going to do.
> 
> I already have plans for both, so I am going to do my best to write both and give you guys alternate endings. Hell, I might even start right now as soon as I've reviewed this thing and hit post.  
> I'll meddle with the tags and warnings as we go on, and hopefully I'll actually be able to do this, but until then...give me your feedback! This return to Ao3 really was...something, wasn't it.
> 
> Oh, hey, shameless plugging since I'm back: for some fluff, you can go to my works and take a peek at Precious on All Counts, wherein there is no highkey angst and just Tony in lowkey denial that he is a dad (featuring our friendly neighborhood cinnamon roll Peter and a happy ending for everyone involved), orrr, for more angst, you could choose to look at And Then The Universe...an Endgame AU wherein I send Tony and Peter to Vormir. Enjoy.
> 
> Thank you all so much! I hope you have a lovely, wonderful day!


	2. I Caught You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy, happy new year, everybody!
> 
> Spoiler alert for the updates on this thing - as a gift (to everyone, myself included, to be honest)...I just couldn't bring myself to let Peter die like that, the way I said I'd write things in the end notes of the last chapter.  
> So, this thing is officially not going to be killing any main characters. Surprise! Yes, however, there are still alternate endings planned - this being the less angsty of the two - and then an epilogue, and possibly this one bonus thing at the very end.  
> I wanted to post, but....disclaimer...it was...barely, edited. I wrote the last half out to the end less than twelve hours ago. But I don't know, maybe that'll make things interesting.
> 
> I'm pretty sleepy, and don't quite know what to put here, but...this one ends well.
> 
> Thank you, and I wish you all the very best of this bold new decade :)

Tony didn’t know how long he’d been kneeling there – lost in thought, in swirling grief – when he heard a voice. And it started to bring him back. Was it real, he wondered. He strained from somewhere within himself, unable to find it again. But then he heard it – louder, this time. He found that he knew that sound.

_Peter._

Before he even needed to think it he was on his feet, turning – looking back and forth to try to find his child, to see to it that this was true. _**“Peter?”**_ he called, pushing his voice so far that his already-charred throat somehow burned even more. But that didn’t matter, even if he’d never speak again. Because Peter was alive. Alive. And he held onto it with everything he could, because his _kid,_ his kid was _alive._

Nothing could describe how it felt. Nothing.

“M-Mister Stark?” he heard from behind, turning around to see Peter slowly limping towards him. The boy’s suit was nearly unrecognizable beneath tears from the debris and deep stains of black, but his face – even covered in ash – was still undoubtedly his. His mask, reduced to tatters, was curled up in one fist, his eyes wide – and the two of them stood still, breathing out in disbelief. They just…they didn’t know what to do. They wanted to smile. Cry. Speak. Anything. They might’ve stood there forever…until Peter let the lump of burnt fabric fall to the ground, and then – even with the injury on his leg, began to run.

They were on the ground before either of them knew it, Tony’s arms holding the most fragile, yet still the strongest thing he’d ever known as tightly as he possibly could. Holding him, and promising with everything he had that he’d never, _ever_ let go.

“I’ve got you buddy, I’ve got you.” Tony found himself repeating over and over into the boy’s ear, his fingers gently working through the ends of Peter’s hair and trying to reassure him in any way he could. “I’ve got you. I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”

Peter released a shaky breath and let himself melt against his mentor’s side, smiling softly even as a shiver worked its way down his spine.

Because at last, everything was alright.

\---

Tony opened his eyes when he saw Rhodey swooping down in the War Machine suit, the man’s faceplate sliding away as he landed to reveal an expression of the utmost relief. “Tones, thank god.” he said, slipping off his helmet and slowly resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. The boy stiffened, still shivering, but relaxed when his spider senses let him know this was someone he could trust. 

“We need to get him on a stretcher, Tony,” Rhodey, said, wasting no time as soon as he saw how tired the both of them were. “I think he’s in shock.” Tony nodded, gently shifting the boy so that he could stand. Rhodey motioned to a group of gathering paramedics and a few of them began running over a stretcher, helping the two of them hoist Peter onto it. The fatigue, however, seemed to be getting the better of him, even as he weakly moved to protest.

“Shhh,” Tony said gently, hesitant to let them take him but knowing that he needed the medical attention. “I’m right here, buddy, don’t worry. We’re going to take a look at that leg of yours, alright? It’s over. You’ve more than earned yourself a nap.”

“Too…old, f’r naps.” Peter mumbled, the words in that moment almost as heavy as his eyelids. “Need to…save…peopl’.”

“You did, alright? I promise.” Tony found his voice breaking. “You…you saved everybody, Pete.”

“Pr’mise?” Peter echoed softly, the word slurring slightly as they wheeled the cart into the ambulance.

“Yeah, buddy.” Tony said, in that moment feeling more emotion than he thought he ever had before. “I promise.”

\---

Tony sat in silence the whole way there. He stayed at the cart’s side in the back – fingers firmly held by Peter’s hand, even in sleep. He knew he would’ve just taken him to the medbay out in the Compound, but out of the resident medics – Banner, Cho, even Strange – no one was around (if it were even safe to fly him there in the first place). So…even with all the unknowns…the ER and some of New York’s top emergency responders would have to do.

“Easy, buddy,” he murmured when the stretcher was being wheeled down through the doors. The spiderman suit was still charred enough that it couldn’t be recognized – which was of little concern to Tony over the kid’s health itself, but nonetheless, it was something that he knew would relieve Peter at least a bit later on. The boy’s body seemed tense, his fists clenching and unclenching with strength he was too far under to damper.

“Mr. Stark?” One of the doctors asked, catching his attention as two others began to push the cart into an examination wing. “We’re going to need to take him inside, now. You’ll be able to see him soon, I promise, but…until then…you’ll to have to wait outside.” After a moment, when Tony hesitated (but exhaled) before nodding, she continued – her brow furrowing as she examined the damage to his suit. “I’m going to get one of the nurses to check you over.” Tony opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a look. “No fighting me on this, sir. With all due respect…we need you alive.” Then she winked. “Your company may or may not be our number one benefactor.” Despite himself, the billionaire gave a light, genuine laugh – at the end of it, finding himself grateful that the hands he was entrusting Peter to, seemed like they were capable ones.

“Thank you, miss…” he squinted slightly, reading her name tag. “Rivera. I…I believe you know what I’m trusting you with; any and all donations I’ve made up until now aside.”

“I do.” She nodded solemnly, peeking over his shoulder and seeing that she had to go help the others. She opened her mouth and pivoted on one heel, motioning for a younger-looking nurse to walk over and join them. “Frances, here, will check you out down the hall. Right outside his room.” She smiled, turning away – but not before giving him one last look of reassurance, and a brush of a hand on his armored shoulder. “I promise, sir. I’ll have him back to you in no time.”

\---

Tony was led several paces behind her, and prompted to sit down on one of the lower examination benches that lined this section of the hallway. “Okay…” the nurse started, pulling on a pair of gloves (as per regulation) and letting her eyes drift over the well-worn suit. “I’m going to need a breakdown from you, of what exactly happened in the fight. Did any blows land earlier on, what happened in the moments before and the moments after the explosion, and are you currently experiencing any symptoms or any pain that isn’t normal?” She began to shine a light into his eyes, checking for any signs of pupil dilation or irregularity, and thankfully finding almost none.

“No real blows before, no. Nothing that isn’t run-of-the-mill, or just absorbed by the armor. The explosion…” he faltered, the memory still fresh. “I was thrown out of the way,” he said at last, convincing himself to stick to the facts. “I avoided most of the debris when I landed.”

“Okay,” she nodded, examining the bruises across his cheek. “These bruises seem like they’ll heal soon enough, and…you don’t feel anything like that, or anything consistent with a fracture beneath the suit, when you move?”

“No.”

“That’s good. Fatigue?”

Tony opened his mouth to respond when Rhodey suddenly turned the corner and found them, momentarily grinning. 

He’d followed the ambulances after checking out the area, and doing scans to make sure there was no lingering structural danger for the paramedics and other first responders. “Don’t believe a word this man says about fatigue,” he said, his War Machine suit seemingly tucked away elsewhere and traded in for a standard getup. “That’s one thing he’ll deny until the world goes dark.”

“Which, I might add,” Tony interjected, “I have stopped many times, with or without this thing you call ‘rest’.” He looked to the nurse, who nodded and began to head away (her examination evidently complete enough to give him his time). “Colonel Rhodes, always with the dramatic, plot convenient entrances.” he declared, once they were more or less alone.

“Heh,” Rhodey laughed, sighing, before his gaze lost most of its playful luster. “In all seriousness, though, Tones. I can tell you’re this close to giving out.”

“What?” Tony scoffed, even as the urge to lay down in the back of his brain quickly gained more and more traction. He tried to get down, then stumbled, his balance shaky for a moment before he caught himself. _Damnit._

“Here we go…” Rhodey said, maneuvering him to a chair across from the window panel by Peter’s stretcher. Through the thick, hospital glass, Tony could see most of what they were doing – but found a breath catching, and then releasing in his chest as he saw the oxygen mask over Peter’s calm, peaceful face. The boy was asleep, letting him see the corners of his mouth hinting at an innocent smile and the gentle, steady rise and fall of his chest. “All they’re doing right now is bandaging the wound on his leg.” Rhodey said, updating him with what he knew. “Glass shard, entry and exit less than half an inch below the surface of his skin. Minor cuts, scratching and bruising in other places, but his suit took the worst of the burns - and his healing factor’s already starting to kick in, so none of it is going to be serious for long.” He saw the emotion in Tony’s gaze and his expression softened, holding his friend’s shoulder and doing what he could – as always – to keep him anchored to the ground. “Hey. Look at me.” 

Tony turned his head, still keeping his vision on Peter from the corner of his eye. “He’s going to be okay, Tony. I promise.”

  


“He’s going to be okay.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing the other ending first, so I've got a head start, and hopefully you'll see that soon. That one would've gone first, but the other one turned into something of a two-parter, and it was the more angsty one so obviously I have to work up to it (I'm sorry I'm laughing I don't know what I'm typing)
> 
> Thank you, so much, for putting up with this nonsense! I hope you have a lovely day! :)


End file.
